


There's More Than One Side To Any Story

by JMount74



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:42:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29906127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JMount74/pseuds/JMount74
Summary: A snippet of time as seen from different sides
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	1. Floating

**Author's Note:**

> For Gumnut, to make up for all the Scottyness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil is quite happy, thank you very much, floating on his cloud.

It was oddly peaceful. That was Virgil’s first thought, lying on his back and staring at the clouds scudding by. No wonder John liked staring up at the heavens. 

So relaxing. 

In a very detached way one part of his brain was screaming for attention - he wasn’t quite sure why - while the other part was picking shapes out. 

Oh look - that one looked like Squiddie!

He sighed, content. Well, partially content. There was that alarm sounding. That part of his brain was becoming insistent and maybe he should move so he could work out what it was all about. 

Ow! That hurt! It was the only thought that passed through his head before his vision whited out completely. 

Opening his eyes this time was far harder. He didn’t think he’d been out for too long because the clouds were still being pursued by the breeze, only there was the faint hint of gold about them.

He felt like he was floating on one of them.

The peace was all-encompassing now, even the birds had fallen still and quiet, and Virgil allowed his mind to drift as his body floated about. That nagging was still there, the beeping alarm he’d heard earlier, but he knew that as long as he didn’t move he’d be alright. 

He wondered where his brothers were. 

That thought caused him to frown. Where were they? Of course, they didn’t completely live in each other’s pockets, but it was a rare day indeed when one or other of them wasn’t around. 

Maybe that nagging was one of his brothers. He tried to concentrate, and he could feel himself frowning with the effort, but the feeling of peace and contentment suddenly increased, and he forgot what he was thinking about.

He drifted further and longer, the sky turning fiery red and orange in the distance, his cloud still a pale gold. He could feel the breeze playing with his hair, and he sank into the feeling of love it gave him.

He was loved. He smiled. He drifted. He floated along.

He must have fallen asleep, for when Virgil next opened his eyes it was night, and the stars were out. He was still floating peacefully on his cloud, and he looked to the left of him, for some reason expecting to see Joh floating next to him. He could almost hear his voice, gentle dulcet tones whispering the names of the stars, and Virgil relaxed back and listened.

When he next awoke he was surprised that it was morning again, and he seemed to be over a body of water, for he could smell the sea and hear the birds below him. He tried to turn over, but the cloud wasn’t having any of it, and he found that it had enveloped him comfortably. He could hear murmurs on the breeze, a song about a sailing ship, and Virgil smiled. Gordon would love this.

As the cloud carried him back in land he could hear the zap-zap sound of Alan’s zombie game, and he idly wondered how well his brother was doing on the newest game he’d bought home the other day.

But the cloud felt like it was getting thinner now, and he was descending. He was still prone, and as he floated gently to the ground he could hear that nagging and that beeping again. The floor was not as comfortable as the cloud, however, but he struggled just to sit up, let alone stand up.

What was wrong with him? 

As he struggled the beeping got louder and more insistent, and the nagging resolved into a cacophony of voices and noises that his head just couldn’t make out. Then, a cold sensation in his arm, and the voices faded until there was only one.

His big brother, soothing him like he’d always done. Fingers gently carding through his hair and that rich voice simply grounding him. Virgil couldn’t work out the words, but that didn’t matter, it didn’t matter at all.

He opened his eyes to see a pair of brilliant cerulean blue ones looking back at him. They were smiling at him.

He smiled back.


	2. Grounded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just exactly was Scott doing on while Virgil was floating away?

He hated this.

There was no surer way to destroy his peace than for one of his brothers to be here in the hospital. He hated the sterility, the smell, the fixed smiles on the staff as they bustled around him, giving him platitudes but no real answers to his questions.

When would his brother wake up? When he’s good and ready to.  
Will there be any permanent damage? We won’t know until he wakes up.

Don’t worry.

Don’t worry.

Don’t worry.

He swore that if one more person said that to him he’d have to punch something. Probably would mean another hole in the wall, another payment to fix the damage, to keep things quiet.

He sighed. And concentrated on the beep beep beep of the monitor, using it to calm his breathing and himself. As he did so there was a slight increase in the beeping, and Scott frowned at the offending piece of machinery. Virgil’s heartrate had increased, and he held his breath, but then it returned to normal, and nothing changed.

‘Where are you floating away to, eh, little brother,’ he murmured, ‘while I’m here, grounded and waiting?’

Coffee.  
Lunch.

He was sure he’d missed both, but it was beginning to darken to twilight out there and he didn’t feel the need to eat anything, and his coffee was cold. Meh, whatever. He stayed at his station, murmuring nothings in his brother’s ear. What their siblings were up to, how Grandma had blown up the kitchen again, how Gordon had scratched Two last night.

That seemed to get a reaction, and the monitors beeped wildly again. Scott started. Maybe he shouldn’t have told Virgil that, he thought guiltily, as the morphine pump added a dose and his brother settled again.

It was a good sign that his brother was beginning to come round. But maybe less about the stuff that would worry him and keep to more jovial talking points.

How could there be happy talking points when his best friend was still unconscious? 

He carded his fingers through Virgil’s hair as the monitor registered a lower heart rate. His brother was relaxing.

John nudged Scott awake a little later, meal and fresh coffee in hand. He was grateful to his immediate brother, as his stomach made known, and he retired to the end of the room, John taking up his position and opening the book he’d brought with him.

For the next few hours John read out loud about the stars. It was a tried and tested method that he had employed regularly, and it never failed. This wasn’t read for the sake of the unconscious man, oh no. This was read to lull his eldest and stubbornest brother to sleep. One unconscious brother was enough, John didn’t need both his immediate brothers hospitalised. It worked his time too, and he continued reading as Scott slept in the chair.

They were both woken by the strains of a sea shanty being hummed by Gordon. He was standing in front of John, having managed to somehow move John and chair back a bit without waking him, and he was holding Virgil’s hand. Both big brothers stayed where they were for a minute, just listening, until Gordon suggested they go grab breakfast as he had the next watch. While Scott was reluctant to leave, John had no qualms and manhandled him out of the room.

Gordon’s humming turned into gentle singing, one of his vast repertoire of shanties following another, and he carried that on until Alan appeared, console in hand as always. He was trying to complete the new zombie game Virgil had got him, and he had been glued the whole time. Zap, zap, zap ‘die!’ was becoming a regular conversation now.

Scott and John turned up not long after Alan, both having consumed far more coffee than was good for them, but at least John had made sure Scott had eaten. Their eldest had a nasty habit of not eating anything when he was stressed.

The doctor appeared not long after, frowning at the amount of people in the room, but the family were unrepentant. However, when he said signs were that Virgil would wake up very soon, John ushered the youngest out and left just Scott. They didn’t want to overwhelm Virgil when he did wake up. His brothers protested, of course, but eventually John managed to herd them outside.

Scott could hear that Virgil’s breathing had picked up, the monitor didn’t need to tell him that, and he listened as the morphine pump injected another dose. Taking his customary seat now the doc was out of the way, he began encouraging Virgil to open his eyes, one hand clutching his brother’s while he ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair.

He leaned forward as Virgil’s eyelids began to flutter. Then he was greeted with familiar honey-brown eyes, and he smiled. Virgil smiled back.

‘Welcome back.’


End file.
